


This is What You Came For

by GpoEmma



Series: Fate's Design [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Mentions of Kurt - Freeform, mentions of Karofsky - Freeform, mentions of Santana - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 21:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13621824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GpoEmma/pseuds/GpoEmma
Summary: The first fight comes before the two of you even go out on your first date. Post Season-Six Au Verse.





	This is What You Came For

Your first fight comes before the two of you go on your first date. Really, you're not surprised. It's you and Rachel. Years down the line she'll bring it up and you’ll deny the entire thing and tell her that she's exhibiting early onset Alzheimers, but you remember it clearly. It did lead to quite possibly one of the best days of your life after all.  
  
  
After crying and spilling your souls out to each other, the weekend still ends. You have a job. Rachel has rehearsal. It's one of the only times you've ever wishes to stay in Lima longer, except with the contingency that Rachel would stay too. But in the end, you return to New Haven and Rachel goes back to New York. The world keeps on moving on. Yours and hers.  
  
  
A few weeks after you’ve settled, you plan to see her again. A few weeks of constant texts, nightly phone calls, and Face-Timing almost every other day, you finally manage enough time to take the train into New York with enough time to spend a long weekend in the company of one Rachel Berry.  
  
  
She’ll deny it but you and Rachel have been dating since that Saturday afternoon in Lima.  
  
  
She meets you at Penn Station carrying a small batch of flowers. She tells you she saw them on her walk down. You blush so hard you only find it natural to kiss her right there, lazily draping an arm around the back of her neck and lowering your mouth to hers.  
  
  
No one gives you and her a second look. No one cares. It’s so easy to the point that you wonder what it would’ve been like if you had just done it sooner. Then you remember Kurt, Santana, Karofsky...  
  
  
When you pull back, her face is flushed and her eyes slowly flutter open and then she huffs and gently slaps your chest.  
  
  
“Public displays of affection? How scandalous, Quinn Fabray!”  
  
  
Your eyes roll because you’ve spent almost half of your life pretending the love you have for Rachel Berry didn’t exist and by now it's just completely ludicrous to not want to flaunt that she's finally yours.  
  
  
But, again. The first fight comes before the two of you even go out on your first date.  
  
  
After you’re settled into her apartment, you lay your bag down in the foyer and pull her in by the wrist, pressing your bodies flush against one another. Those red cheeks you swooned over in Penn station reappear.  
  
  
You’ve missed her in the weeks since reuniting in Lima. Really missed her. Like, years of gay repression and Rachel Berry actually has the hots for you, kind of missed her. Like, not properly laid in over a year...

As you lean down to kiss her, she presses her index finger to your lips. Like a record scratching, sounds coming to a half, you snap your eyes open and furrow your brows. She only gently pushes her head back with the strength of a single digit.  
  
  
“What...”  
  
  
“Quinn. As happy and eager as I am to have you in New York, we need to establish one ground rule before you take me out on our first date.”  
  
  
What even-  
  
  
“I’m afraid to say that you and I will not be engaging in any physical activities with one another, including kissing, before our first date.”  
  
  
She pulls from your grasp. Your face is frozen in place, staring at the wall behind Rachel when she stumbles to the side. It only lasts a few seconds before you collect yourself.  
  
  
“Rachel, you have got to be-”  
  
  
“Kidding you? I assure you that I’m anything but.”  
  
  
“We’re almost thirty!”  
  
  
“You’re twenty seven, Quinn.”  
  
  
“Rachel!” You’re pretty sure that you’re about to explode. Cheeks puff out. Your face feels hotter and you’re not that confident but you may be turning into the hormonal hulk.  
  
  
_Quinn smash._  
_Quinn smash Rachel._  
  
  
“I am not budging on that. You caught me off guard at Penn Station and I will admit, I let that one slide because I was extremely excited to see you, but!”  
  
  
“But what? You won’t even kiss me before our first date?”  
  
  
“Typically I don’t even kiss after the first date... Suitors wait until the second or third even.”  
  
  
“Rachel!” The second time you call her name. You’re staring at her like you’re in the twilight zone and Rachel is your wife, except she’s been kidnapped and replaced with an alien look-a-like and she keeps acting weirder and weirder until she's literally spitting herself down the middle and a slimy green alien is crawling out of the meat suit that you so fondly call Rachel.

 

Okay, maybe you've taken creative writing a bit too far.  
  
  
It takes all but three seconds before the two of you fly off into a screaming match. She’s being childish. You’re not being respectful of her boundaries. You remind her that neither of you are teenagers and her ground rule is stupid. As soon as you tell her that you know you’ve said something wrong because she tells you that if you don’t like it, you can march right out the door and find the next train back to New Haven.  
  
  
After that, the room falls quiet and she storms off. A door upstairs slams and you know she’s just left to hide in her bedroom.  
  
  
A moment passes, then another before you hear muffled speakers from upstairs and some show tunes you don’t recognize start playing.  
  
  
Rachel Berry hasn’t really ever changed. Deep down, she’s still the same girl you fell in love with high school. And deep down you’re still The stubborn Quinn Fabray. So stubborn.  
  
  
To be fair, Rachel in high school probably would’ve been the same way if you had asked her out then. You mull the thought over over while you give yourself a tour, even though Rachel gave you one in Face-Time a week ago. Her home is decorated rather... Well, you certainly thought there would be more pink. Or gold stars. Possibly a boa hanging over a door frame.  
  
  
Despite the fact that you would’ve never have asked her out in high school, in some strange universe (where you didn’t grow up extremely conservative and Christian), you would’ve been fine (if not a bit annoyed) with the request. Hell, even blushed and thought it was sweet and cute that she held herself to the standard.  
  
  
You messed up.  
  
  
Five minutes later, you’ve got a glass of water in your hand and you’re up the stairs, knocking on the door where the music is blasting from.  
  
  
“If that is a certain Blonde on the other side of the door that has no care or concern for my feelings, you can tell her that she can shove it.”  
  
  
You can’t help but laugh. The bite in her tone is oddly sexy. Your face scrunches up in self disgust at the thought but it’s fine, just bury the gross little kink you have for her stubborn attitude and move on. You shrug it off and knock again.  
  
  
“Nope. No blonde with that description. Just a blonde that wants to apologize and spend every minute she can with a certain brunette that copes with her anger by way of show tunes.”  
  
  
A moment later you hear the music stop and the floor freak as the footsteps get closer. When she opens the door you already have the glass of water extended.  
  
  
“While the sentiment is absolutely knee weakening, I’m still mad.”  
  
  
“I know.”  
  
  
Rachel huffs and your lips twist into a lop-sided grin that only causes her cheeks to redden but she takes the glass of water and takes a sip.  
  
  
“My father’s give me water when-”   
  
  
“I know.” She wants to ask how you know that but that might be for another day, so you take a step forward and simply shrug. You don't want to tell her that since going to a therapist you've understood that behind tormenting Rachel in High School, you spent so much time and energy learning everything you could about her, burning into your head an image of her fathers rushing... Yeah. Another day. “I didn’t know if you’d be crying or not... Come downstairs so we can plan our day tomorrow.”  
  
  
Rachel isn’t mad you didn’t have every detail planned out or any detail either. She thinks it’s thoughtful and cute that you’d rather sit down and listen to her input before deciding what the two of you would be doing in her city after all.  
  
  
You know Rachel Berry almost like the back of your hand but it’s not the right time to pull a surprise date out of your ass in a city that Rachel Berry _does_ know like the back of her hand.  
  
  
Surprisingly, Rachel’s suggestions make her seem low maintenance, not that you find it unwelcoming. In fact? You're mostly relieved. You'd figure she'd call you lazy and attempt to throw you out the second time that day. But, she doesn’t care what the two of you do, as long as it’s mostly outside, you stop for food at some point because she gets hungry every couple of hours, and take lots of pictures.  
  
  
It’s easy, she promises while holding up three fingers and a million dollar smile.

 

* * *

 

You go to Whole Foods because Rachel’s salivating at the mouth an hour into your walk (hands sweaty but interlocked, you don’t want to ever let go but when she practically runs for the air conditioning you wipe your hand on your shorts) and she proclaims that the buffalo soy nuggets they have are better than sex.  
  
  
You want to say that you beg to differ or that she must be having terrible sex but you’re really trying to get a second date so you bite your tongue and grimace as she loads five dollars worth into a container of its own.  
  
  
After a lot of coaching and pretty eyelash batting, she convinces you to try one.  
  
  
They’re not as good as sex, but they’re fucking close and you’re so shocked and offended that something without meat can taste so good.  
  
  
“Better than bacon?”  
  
  
You think about breaking up with her right there for even thinking of asking that question. Nothing is better than bacon. Well... One thing.  
  
  
Instead you roll your eyes, a fond smile gracing you lips as you reach over and squeeze her hand.  
  
  
“Absolutely not.”  
  
  
Her face falls. She thought she could convert you, you know it in her face. But after a moment her she smiles and rolls her eyes back at you.  
  
  
Despite bacon keeping them a sea apart, Rachel’s words, not yours, she lets you drag her to Central Park even though she says it’s over-rated but takes the reigns and tugs you along to the best spot in the park. You laugh when she bullies a group of teenagers away so you and her can relax.  
  
  
Part of you is surprised that she didn’t drag you all over New York to see the most important sights. Or a Broadway show, even. But the other part, deep down knows that you’ll have the rest of your lives to explore the city that’s captured part of her heart.  
  
  
You don’t say that, though. You don’t want to scare her. For once, you’re more than happy to just enjoy the moment. You lay there with your head in her lap as her fingers thread through your hair while she quietly tells you about the newest production she’ll be starring in.  
  
  
You’re only partly listening because her hands are like magic in your hair. You’re also almost positive that some form of purring is vibrating against your throat because you’re so absolutely relaxed.  
  
  
“It has seven nude scenes but I’ve kept up a healthy work out-“  
  
  
Your eyes fly open so quickly and by the time you meet her gaze, she’s laughing softly.  
  
  
“I was wondering when you would start listening again.”  
  
  
You ears are red. Rage at a fiery embarrassed level but you quickly calm and mumble an apology but, those hands. Oh, those hands are blessed by God and they haven’t stopped running through your hair.  
  
  
“That’s not funny.”  
  
  
“On the contrary, it’s very funny.”  
  
  
You pout. Because it isn’t. Because the thought of the world seeing Rachel Berry nude before you get the chance to is down right fate’s work against you.  
  
  
Rachel responds by dipping her head down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You’d prefer the lips... and other regions but this makes you blush and if not for the shade you’re under, she might see it.  
  
  
“Oh look. You’ve made me break my own rule, Quinn Fabray.”  
  
  
“Well. I’m the poster child for rule breaking, Berry, so...” The nickname slips wildly from your lips before you have a chance to stop them. You haven’t called her that in years. Haven’t had the reason to. Berry feels synonymous with years of regret. Years of anger. Years of denial.  
  
  
You tense because although you've already profusely apologized for it all you can't help but feel like it isn't enough.  You don't think it'll ever be enough. But she smiles down at you and nudges your shoulder in a way that makes you almost fall off her lap.  
  
  
You wonder just how the two of you got to be so comfortable. You wonder if it had to do with you giving up on trying to repress everything you could’ve had this years ago. It’s a lot more work to pretend that feelings don’t exist than it is to just be.  
  
  
Because this? Loving Rachel, and forgetting everything else around you? It's easy. You feel it. She does too.

 

“What's going on in your mind there?” She looks at you as though you're the keeper of the world's secrets, big brown eyes staring down at you with a million questions running in her mind.

 

“Nothing. Just happy that I'm here... And wondering when I can take you out on that second date.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed the second installment of Fate's Design. I've put a lot of thought into this and I've decided to write this min-series as an interpretation of fate bringing Rachel and Quinn together. I do plan on putting out some past-setting writings out, again from Quinn's perspective, about her feelings of herself and Rachel.


End file.
